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Growing up I had always been alone.

My mother was a junkie that took out her aggression on me when she didn't find or have enough money to buy her fix. It also got worse when she started dating her drug dealer. Going to school wasn't even part of it, people would stare at the bruises and too many questions would be asked.

When I was eleven, I finally had enough. I remember the hit to the head, the blood dripping down the side of my face. I remembered hearing my own mother and her dealer boyfriend talk about harvesting organs and selling them because, did you know almost three hundred thousand grand and if they also sold other parts, it would be a fuck ton of money.

They were going to do that to me.

I remember lying on the ground and willing my body to get up. I had to move or I was going to die. My mother and her dealer boyfriend decided to celebrate early and had rushed towards their room and then the house was filled with squeaky sounds.

It took a lot of tears and will but I did it. I escaped. I ran away.

To survive, I scrapped for food, ate food found in the garbage, drank water from a fountain and then turned to pickpocketing and that's how I met Xander. 

-

I stood at the corner as I watched the boy. His head was held up high and he had big men standing behind him, like he was royalty. Auburn hair styled off his face, he had on all black and a brown trench coat. He looked like a rich spoilt kid. I could totally shake him up for money.

I sneakily followed them into the building, hiding out of sight. I licked my lips as the boy pulled a lollipop out of his pocket and opened it. Rich kids like this always act like they own the world but when I push them against the wall and demand for money, I get it  because they can't fight and this boy wouldn't be any different. He looked around my age but a little bit shorter than me. I got so excited about the prospect of eating something for dinner. It's been days since I had eaten something decent.

I finally saw my chance. The two men walk the boy over to the toilets and I followed, hiding out of sight. They two big men don't wait at the entrance of the toilet but leave instead. I quickly made my way in and there he was, drying his hands with a paper towel.

I rushed towards him and gripped him by the throat, pushing him against the wall.

"Give me all your money."  I snapped at him.

The boy simply looked at me with a bored expression. I squeezed his neck tighter and he just gives me a droll look.

"Give me your fucking money."

The boy let out a bored sigh and in the blink of an eye, the hand I had on his neck was hurting and pressed at an awkward angle behind my back. I yelped when I was smacked up the side, forcing my head down, my gaze on the ground.

"You're really stupid." the boy said as he smacked me again. "Really stupid."

He pushed me to the ground and walks closer to me, squatting so he could look right in my face. He sighs as he pulls a small gun from behind him, pressing it right to my forehead.  Even doing this, he still had the same bored expression on his face.

"Who sent you? Was it Mackintosh? Was it my asshole of a father? Is this another test because I won't hesitate to shoot you right here and now." the boy said, a flash of anger shooting across his face.

"What the fuck is a twelve year old doing with a gun?" I found myself saying. I refused to back down.

"Why the fuck are you asking for my wallet?" the boy asked, raising a brow.

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